LONG STORY SHORT

by John M. Floyd

I’ve often heard writers of nonfiction complain that they’re the Rodney Dangerfields of the literary community. Not that they don’t sell a lot of books and articles (because they do) or that they don’t make money from their writing (because they do). Their complaint is that they sometimes feel they aren’t recognized as “real” writers until they’ve published fiction.

The same might be said of short-story writers. Some feel they aren’t truly fiction writers unless and until they’ve sold a novel. Is that fair? I of course don’t think so, though I’m a little biased. But many people who are not writers have asked me, point-blank, “Why waste your time writing short stories when you could be writing novels?”

Well, I’ve written three novels, and most of a fourth, but they’re sitting here at home aging like tobacco leaves, or (as I prefer to think) fine wine. I realize I should be aggressively marketing them, and plan to get started on that this year, but up until now I’ve concentrated on short fiction. One of the reasons, honestly, is that I think it’s more fun. Another is that since I’ve sold a boatload of short stories and have never sold a novel, I just feel more comfortable writing and marketing the short stuff. It’s safe ground for me, and I’m as reluctant as the next soldier to venture far from my foxhole unless someone orders me to.

Does that mean I’m not a real fiction writer? Maybe so — that question would have to be answered by my readers. But it’s not a question that bothers me much, and I would advise my nonfiction writer friends to take that same attitude. (By the way, my personal take on nonfiction is that it’s harder to write than fiction, and requires at least as much talent.)

Having said all that, what possible advantage could there be to writing short stories instead of novels? (Besides the security of my comfort zone, I mean.) After all, novels are the shining stars of the literary sky, and are probably the only way an author of fiction can ever hope to squint in the glare of the limelight.

So why write short fiction? Glad you asked. Here are a few advantages of short stories over novels:

(1) They can be resold. And not just once. I’ve sold some of my short stories five and six times each, to different markets. All that’s required is that you not sign away “all rights” to your piece; that way, you can sell reprint rights over and over again.

(2) They give you a sense of completion. Finishing a story and writing THE END is a great feeling, to me — and with short stories, it happens often. I can write one in a matter of hours or days, and turn around and write something else, something completely different, as soon as I’m done.

(3) There’s less time invested. This ties in with the previous item. A novel takes months or even years to write, and if it doesn’t sell, you’ve spent an enormous chunk of time in the company of those characters and inside that plot. (Forgive me if that’s a negative outlook.)

(4) They can help you build a résumé. Credits obtained by publishing stories in quality magazines and anthologies can make you more marketable as a writer, not only to other magazines but to agents and publishers of longer works.

(5) They’re good practice. Crafting publishable short stories teaches you a lot about how to write “tight.” Novels might be long, but the best novels are still written in a way that is focused and compact, with few wasted words. Writing short also gives you good experience in creating the story arc that is so necessary in novels, plays, screenplays, etc.

(6) You don’t need an agent. Many aspiring novelists are advised to try to find an agent before doing anything else, but this is not true of short-story writers. I had a wonderful agent for several years who represented my short fiction (he passed away in 1999), but these days few agents will take on short-story authors, and the truth is, you can probably do as well without them.

(7) It’s fun. I think the process of putting together a good plot and believable characters in only a few thousand words is a thrill as well as a challenge. If I knew I would never publish another word, I’d still write the short stuff. It’s addictive.

A final note. Even though I’ve tried to make a case for choosing to write short over long, there is one often-overlooked reason that more writers don’t write short: Some don’t feel that they can. Several of my novelist friends (one of them a New York Times bestseller) have told me they think short stories are harder to write than novels, and JLW mentioned in his column last Monday that he’d also heard that comment from other writers. Lawrence Block once agreed, saying: “Novels aren’t harder; they’re just longer.” And Faulkner said he tried writing short stories when he found he couldn’t write poetry, and then turned to writing novels when he found he couldn’t write short stories.

I’ve also heard that writing a good novel requires a better storyteller, while writing a good short story requires a better craftsman. Is that true? Who knows.

I’m not sure it matters anyway. There’ll always be room for both.